When peace eludes
When purpose seems to lose
When perspective is at ruse
When promises don’t produce
When possibilities simply refuse

Then give up control
Then give up the crawl up the wall
Then give up the stickiness of it all
Then give up the judgment tall
Then give up the unkindness of it all

When the train is stopped on track
When the brain is blocked on black
When the mind doesn’t cut slack
When heart is feeling the break-n-crack

Then the flood of emotions moisten
Then the time is to wait and listen
Then the path as if waiting to glisten
Then the anguish will eventually lessen

When the peace eludes
When the turmoil is profuse
When all the trial is in recluse
When the denial is abstruse

Then the calling is from the Being
Then self compassion is the Seeking
Then the gift is simply in the Breathing
Then love is what helps only from Within
Then more beauty is what breaks Open

P.S. Dear Debbie, please accept this poem as my contribution to ForgivingFridays. I wish to bring forgiveness to all the judgment we bring to ourselves for not being good enough. Thank you for creating the beautiful space to bring peace and forgiveness to our beings.

A seed, gets buried in an avalanche of soil. The soil is rich, impregnated with all the life juice and organic energy for the seed to use. The seed though, suffocates and struggles in the darkness and compactness of being buried.It knows it will survive …not sure how.

It finds in itself the innate ability to absorb, the nutrients and moisture available around. Something starts to happen as the seed starts getting soaked.It begins to change …not sure how.

Ever wonder how the change feels to the seed?

So much of breaking up, as it transforms. So much of a stir, before it finally learns to feel the softening. The tremendous endurance before it feels the surrender…

The seed sprouts a shoot. The shoot is so puzzled as it begins to break out of the surface of the ground. It quivers as the first air brushes on it. It faces the brightness of the very first light. It is held up …not sure how.

Ever know what this feels like?

The shoot grows stronger, taller. Head high, seeing all around very clearly.
It blooms. Into a delicate, pretty, beautiful flower. It is crimson and pink all over. It is just Being. Just Being what it had come to become. Not knowing about beautiful or happy or anything.

The flower suddenly gets jolted out of Being. It has a question. “Am I arrogant?
They are saying, I am beautiful and pretty … Am I arrogant?”It feels the judgment ..not sure how.

Ever wonder about why the embarrassment about what you are blessed with Being?

The flower looks down, to the soil. “I know” it says, “I am up here only because of your nourishment, all that you gave me. I still have my roots in you …will always have my roots in you, as long as I live …roots of my gratitude”. It hears a message back from the soil, “We never said you owe us!”

Ever wonder how different we are as humans, when we serve, just because we were able to?

The flower ponders, “I am up here …all beautiful and pretty. I will be Beauty to the eye that sees me, Fragrance for the one who smells me …as long as I just Be.
Then one day my petals will fall away, one by one. I will no longer be the flower, pretty and beautiful, up here soaking in the sunshine. I will become part of the soil, to nourish another flower to bloom. I will get a chance to give back then.”It feels content …a bit sure how.

With a happy smile, the flower looks down at it’s stalk …its connection to the soil and nourishment. It gets puzzled to see thorns and leaves, that it did not see before.It finds the answer it seeks …not sure how.

The leaves help it absorb the intensity of the sunshine.
The thorns …the thorns …there is sadness on seeing the thorns.
With the morning dew drops as tears, the flower says …”I am sorry I have thorns. I am done being broken down! Don’t touch me, Now I have thorns!!”

“The wounds of the seed as it transformed, to help me be born, I still carry in my soul.”

“I am told I also have a name …Rose is what I am called. I am not sure what all that is about …I am just here as temporarily as you are. I will stand tall and beautiful and pretty as long as you look at me …until I simply fall away …one petal at a time …to return and become the richness of the soil”

The storm passes away(After the storm of both kinds)Everything is at standstillEerie quiet and also disarrayWorld as you know it, is no moreSome changes sting to the coreRearranges what you see and believeAll that you think will help relieve

Drop into the blanksCollect the right thoughtsTo build a new dreamCollect the right planksAs if to build a new home

Step at a time, carved to lead you thereNew ways to discover waiting whereDon’t rush, the road is wet and slipperyTake time to scan the landscapeCourage and surrender required so veryTread with faith, there is no escape